Why I’m “Mike” after being “Mohammad Reza” for 30 years!!

I’ve spent most of my life carrying a name longer than a freight train. People often ask me how I managed to go from “Mohammad Reza + 27-word last name” to just “Mike.” So, I thought I’d share my journey with you!

Chapter 1: BE BORN WITH A NAME THAT BREAKS YOUR BACK

This one’s crucial and, admittedly, a bit out of your control. It all started in a country where names are as long as grocery lists. My parents, in their infinite wisdom, decided to honor not one but two uncles: “Mohammad” from my dad’s side and “Reza” from my mom’s. Combine that with a last name that could wrap around a building, and you’ve got a full name that’s 38 letters long!

Every official form became a puzzle. Spaces for my name would run out halfway through, and I’d have to squish letters together or write in the margins. Phone calls where I had to spell out my name felt like endurance tests. Secretaries might’ve developed hand cramps typing it all out, and computers sometimes just gave up. True story: once, an online visa application crashed because my name was too long!

But hey, there were perks. My name used so much ink that pages with it felt heavier. In school, I could find my name in the yearbook by flipping to the thickest page. On any list, my name stood out — literally.

Chapter 2: MOVE TO A NEW COUNTRY AND GET TRAUMATIZED

After 30 years of lugging around my colossal name, I decided to move to the United States. Exciting, right? Well, that’s when things got even more interesting.

First, on a trip back from Turkey, an airport officer took one look at my passport and burst into laughter. He even showed it to his colleagues, and soon, a small crowd was chuckling at my expense. I thought, if I could make people laugh this easily, maybe stand-up comedy was my true calling! However, destiny had other plans.

Then, while returning to my home country, a border officer scrutinized my passport, looked me up and down — probably wondering how a skinny, 6-foot-tall guy like me could carry such a heavyweight name — and said, “You know you can’t get a European or US visa with this family name, right?” I wanted to argue but figured getting into a debate with a border officer wasn’t the smartest move. His words echoed in my mind for weeks. When I started my US visa application, his voice kept taunting me: “You’re not going to be given a US visa.” I had nightmares about it.

But guess what? He was wrong! Despite my last name spilling out of every designated space on the forms, I was granted the visa. Shove it up to your **s, **ithead!

However, the challenges didn’t end there. After arriving in the US, I noticed everyone else who came with me received their green cards within a few weeks. Mine? Nowhere in sight. I started to wonder if my lengthy name had broken the card-printing machine. Maybe the government declined to issue my green card because fixing the printer would blow their budget! I even joked that IRS agents were probably debating the extra expense.

Of course, these were just my overactive worries. I eventually received my green card — but only after emailing nearly every representative in Congress and the Senate. The president was next on my list if it hadn’t arrived! I like to think they had to reinvent the card-printing machine just to handle my name. To all the American taxpayers out there, I apologize if I added a fraction of a cent to your taxes in 2016 because the government had to fix the printer.

All these experiences made one thing clear: my name was more of a burden than a badge of honor. It was time to shed some letters and lighten the load. I discovered that changing your name in the U.S. is easier than changing your profile picture. Back home, it would’ve been like trying to climb Mount Everest without oxygen. But in America? Piece of cake.

I kept “Mohammad Reza” out of respect for my family, but I needed something more manageable for daily life. On my first day at work, my manager called me “Mo.” I wasn’t sure if she was talking to me or talking in cow language. It was confusing, to say the least.

Chapter 3: EMBRACE A NEW NAME AND FACE THE REALITIES IN LIGHT OF YOUR RELIGIOUS NAME

That’s when “Mike” came into the picture. It is simple, starts with an “M,” and is easy to remember. As a customer service rep, introducing myself as “Mike” made interactions smoother. Let’s face it: people respond better to “Mike” than to “Mohammad Reza.” It was an eye-opening experience about how names can influence perceptions.

I realized that my original name sometimes carried unfair biases and preconceived notions. On phone calls, I noticed customers were more patient and friendly when I was ‘Mike,’ but when I introduced myself as ‘Mohammad Reza,’ there were awkward pauses. It’s ironic how just a name can influence people’s perceptions.

At first, I didn’t always respond when someone called out “Mike.” I’d think, “Who? Oh, right, that’s me!” Over time, though, the name started to feel like a comfy new pair of shoes.

Now, I juggle multiple names:

• Mike at work
• Mohammad Reza with family
• Reza to my neighbors
• Occasionally, John on online forums

It’s like having different hats for different occasions. Call me by any name — you’ll get the same person every time!

Last Word: FIND THE HUMOR IN IT ALL

Through this journey, I’ve learned that names are important, but they don’t define who you are. Whether I’m signing a document with a name that takes up half the page or introducing myself with a simple “Mike,” I’ve embraced every part of my identity.

So, if you’re ever feeling weighed down by something — be it a long name or anything else — remember that change is possible, and sometimes it’s as simple as shortening a name. And always keep a sense of humor about it. After all, life’s too short for long names!